


three things cannot be long hidden

by lovelunarchron



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drabble, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Lost Love, Love, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Romance, Short story told in ten parts, Three Things, True Love, Tumblr Prompt, Working Through Problems, break-ups, kaider, kaider married, make-ups, prompted, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelunarchron/pseuds/lovelunarchron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kai and Cinder fell hard, but was it meant to be? A short, connected story told in ten segments, each including a set of three things. Tumblr prompt by sparkingstoryinspiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a red wine stain, a broken vase, street lights

**Author's Note:**

> "Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth." - Buddha

 

The fight escalates quickly tonight.

My words come brash and sarcastic; Kai's silence digs into me like claws. But I see the anger, raw and ready to simmer over. I've memorized the foreshocks.

 _There_.

There it is.

A frustrated hand running through his already disheveled hair. Then another. He throws up both of them suddenly and one connects with the star-patterned vase.

It tumbles,

smashes,

breaks.

We both gape at the shard-filled water at our feet.

He says my name like he wishes he'd never have to say it again, and inside my walls crumple like they always do when they're being battered by his earthquake.

_I will not cry. I will not let him see._

I sip my wine with vigor only to pucker my stained lips as he lets loose everything he's bottled up since this argument started.

"You lied to me," he finishes more calmly, when I've returned his silence in favor long enough. He's calculating, realizing he's gone too far. "This isn't you."

I shrug my shoulders more for show than the actual complacency I feel and a drop of wine spills out over the rim. It drips onto the sodden white rose that already rests on the floor, bright like blood against a sheet.

I long for the days when flowers solved problems, when _passionate_ meant heat instead of anger.

"Cinder."

My name is a warning now.

I turn more abruptly than intended and my foot catches.

Another splash.

This time the wine's on me. I groan but continue to my shoes, my jacket, the door. I can't be here.

He follows me only far enough so I'll catch his disappointment.

"You don't trust me," is all I say.

Kai blinks at me.

I leave.

Reality hits me on the front porch at the same time as the chilling wind. I pull my jacket tighter around me, but the street lights still illuminate my shame.


	2. autumn leaves, raindrops against a window, cups of tea

"Of course you can stay here tonight," says Cress.

She holds the door open with a smile, but I don't miss the way her eyes flash with worry when she glances at Thorne. It's the second time I've stayed over in three weeks. If this keeps up, I'll soon wear out my welcome.

I step over the crisp, autumn leaves that have blown onto their front porch anyway and enter their house. My feet are tired from walking more than forty minutes and it's a relief to take off my wet shoes. I needed time to think, but maybe I overdid it in this weather.

I don't know why I ended up at Cress and Thorne's again. Maybe it's desperation. Maybe it's because last time, they didn't pry as much as I'd have thought—not even Thorne. It could have been the visible waterworks or, more likely, Cress's influence on him. Tonight it's too drizzly and dark to tell where my tears end and the rain begins.

As soon I've hung up my damp coat, Cress pulls me into a hug. It doesn't take long before Thorne wraps his arms around the both of us.

"Hugging it out with my two best girls," he says. The slight uncertainty in his voice gives away the same worry Cress did with her eyes. I know my best friend and he's rarely uncertain.

It must be unchartered territory for him, having relationship problems. Even as I pull myself out of the embrace, Cress and Thorne naturally gravitate to each other. It's hard not to be jealous, but I stop myself.

Thorne changed when he met Cress, and I'm so glad for it. She brings out the best in him. I've gained a new friend.

"Let's have some tea and talk," says Cress, gently pulling Thorne towards the kitchen with her.

I follow them but pause as we pass the living room. There are candles lit and rose petals on the floor. Unlike the ones at my house, these are clearly scattered with careful attention to detail.

_Oh._

Oh _stars._

Embarrassment floods me as if I've just taken a nasty fall in public. "Your anniversary. I completely forgot. I'm so sorry. I'll—I'll stay somewhere else. I can call Scarlet. Or Winter."

It occurs to me then that I haven't even taken my phone along.

It's Cress who reaches out and takes my hand, urging me into the kitchen where Thorne is already pulling out some cups from their cupboard. "Don't worry, Cinder. We're happy to have you."

"Cress and I have already finished celebrating anyway," says Thorne. He winks at me when Cress isn't looking, a teasing grin lighting up his face.

I'd normally roll my eyes or make a sarcastic comment, but I slump into one of the bar stools in front of the island and cradle my head in my hands. This is how relationships should be.

This is how mine _was_.

Cress busies herself with the teapot. She hums a tune as she works and I watch as raindrops fall against the windows. I wonder if the rain is a sign that this is the ending scene in the screenplay that is my relationship.

Thorne comes up behind me and rubs my shoulders. "Hey, everything's going to be okay."

I don't know if I believe him.


	3. blue paint, handprints, an airplane

The next morning, Cress brings me coffee in bed and runs a few fingers through my tangled hair. She reminds me that I have a job, and that I have to stay strong.

She insists it's fine to stay for another day while I collect my thoughts, but that I can't avoid him forever. We're married, and we have to work on this. We can't give up. She says her and Thorne fight too and it somehow always turns out okay in the end.

This is apparently how it will go with me and Kai.

I'm too proud to do anything but lie and say it's not a problem.

Of course everything will work out.

I'm not sure if I'm lying to Cress or myself.

She drives me to my house after we've waited long enough for Kai to have left for work already. But when I get inside, I notice the bed hasn't been slept in and I wonder where Kai spent the night.

The thought of him with someone else makes my heart flip down. I take deep but dizzying breaths as I open up a drawer and grab clean socks.

Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater. Kai is not a cheater.

Kai

is

not

a

cheater.

I'm the one who left first. I'm the one who gave him the option to leave too.

I find my phone downstairs on the kitchen table where I left it last night. There's a missed call, but it's just Adri.

The flowers and shards and even some water are still on the ground, and this makes any feelings of sadness boil and burst into anger.

Cress doesn't ask any questions when I slam the door behind me on the way out.

At work, this guy brings in a Beetle that's painted blue. It's an ugly blue, a sky blue, the type that should be allowed only in nature and not on anything artificial.

My mind drifts to how that same color—not ugly at all—shone outside the airplane window when I flew to China for the first time to meet Kai's family.

I stare outside as long as I can, until the blood red sun sinks below my periphery. Kai sits next to me on the airplane, dozing because he's flown this route a hundred times and is not fazed by the view.

It must be nice to have roots, I think, biological parents, a place to call home. I never had that with my adoptive family, though I still owe them for getting me out of the orphanage.

I'm taken by Kai's family immediately, though their lavish lifestyle makes mine look feeble and pathetic. They have pictures of Kai and me all over the apartment, since they love what Kai loves and _Kai loves me._

They take me to the heart of Beijing, to the place where my mother left me when I was three days old. Kai tells them to come back later because he knows I need to stay, need to know.

We spend the afternoon there, playing with the kids who have no home, who are not so different from me.

Could be me.

Kai surprises me by telling me that his family donated crafts for the older kids and toys for the younger ones.

We make red handprint art and one of the five-year-old girls holds hers up so proud. She gives it to me as a present when Kai gently reminds me that we have to leave, four hours later.

I take it back to the US with me and hang it up in our living room.


	4. a text message, a giddy feeling for the whole day, a flag

Thorne pulls up to the garage in his car at the end of my shift. He has shades on even though it's not sunny, and he grins flirtatiously as he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for me. "Hey there pretty lady, fancy a ride?"

I groan but slide in, relieved that I don't have to take the bus back to their house. "Where's Cress?"

"Working late. It's just you and me tonight, darlin'." At the look I give him, his grin widens. "It's okay. That giddy feeling you have is normal. It'll likely last all night. I have that effect on women."

I'm too tired for a retort. At least Thorne is being _Thorne_. That's normal, and I need normal.

When he takes the ramp to the highway, I turn to him. He sees my silent question, shrugs, and then rolls up the windows. "I thought we could take a drive."

I stare out at the passing scenery.

I'm relieved he's not interested in talking when Thorne turns the volume up on a rock song and says, "Hope you don't mind. With Cress it's always pop music."

I prefer this music, so I don't mind at all, except Kai _does_ mind. He wants new age, eclectic music and now we fight about what channel to listen to when we drive because we fight about _everything._ I'm this close to buying my own car just so I can drive in peace but that's a stupid reason to buy a car. We'd need _money_ to buy a car.

We have even less money now. And that's my fault.

Thorne exits near the downtown and when I finally figure out where we're going, I tell him no. This bar is tacky and sexist and just plain strange. He tells me that they've recently remodeled and there aren't any more exotic dancers. What kind of guy do I take him for, anyway?

"That kind of guy."

It's not a total lie. He used to be that kind of guy. When his face falls for the first time since he's picked me up, though, I'm quick to apologize. I shouldn't take out my frustration on him.

"They have live music," he says earnestly. "It's so loud you can barely hear yourself think. No one you know will be here. The food is good. It's the perfect place to go when you need to forget life."

I contemplate his words only a moment. That does sound promising, even if the flag for _The Captain's Spaceship_ still has the silhouette of a naked lounging lady on it. I can already hear the music blaring from here.

"Fine."

His grin returns, and though he extends his arm to me in the parking lot, I don't take it.

He pays my cover, and soon I'm surrounded by wood, brass, and mirrors. It's dim and loud and so full that I relish in the anonymity it provides.

He manages to snag us two seats right at the bar. I can see those who are dancing and milling about through the mirrors in front of us, but I focus my attention on the peanuts at the bar.

"I'll take a Corona Extra," says Thorne, but I shake my head. "Corona Light for the lady," he says anyway.

I gobble up two handfuls of peanuts. They're far too salty.

Kai would hate this place.

I would hate this place.

My beer arrives, though, and after I nearly finish the entire bowl of peanuts (and Thorne takes them away), my throat is parched and I think, screw it. I clink my bottle against Thorne's.

It doesn't take long before Thorne orders another round, and when I down that bottle just as quickly, he gets us nachos too.

I find I'm starving, and the beer washes away the spiciness perfectly.

Thorne was right. The food _is_ good.

We don't talk.

I let the music take over.

When I order my fourth beer myself, Thorne tells the bartender to bring me a water too.

When I'm halfway through the bottle, Thorne says, "Kai texted me earlier."

It takes me a moment to hear him. The mirrors everywhere are making everything spin a little, and we haven't even starting dancing yet.

"He didn't text me," I say.

He grabs my wrist, though, and leans in as he pulls me closer to him. Thorne says into my ear, "He says he needs some time."

I glance down at my watch. "Time?"

I feel his breath on my neck, and I think Thorne is sighing. "Time away, Cinder. He wants a break."

I blink at Thorne, who is still holding on to my wrist.

"You know how Kai is," says Thorne, his blue eyes searching mine as if I'm a puzzle. "He's more emotional than most women. He'll need to stew and talk about his feelings for hours on end, and then he'll come around. His text said to let you know that he needs a break but he'll be in touch soon. Soon is good."

"Soon is good," I repeat blandly. Thorne lets go of my wrist and I take another sip of my beer. He watches me hesitantly.

"Cress and I had a big misunderstanding once," he continues. He's yelling in my ear now in an attempt for me to hear him. "Right when we started dating. She walked in on me kissing another girl."

I look down at the empty plate of nachos in front of me.

"It took some time, but we cleared things up. It was a matter of her letting me explain."

"There's nothing to explain." I finish my bottle and slam it on the bar. "Another, garçon!"

The bartender glances at Thorne. He shakes his head at the bartender, who nods and leaves.

"Hey!" I say.

"You're a lightweight," he says. "And we should head back."

"We only just got here!" I protest. "You haven't even asked me to dance yet."

Thorne regards me like he's never seen me before. Then he rubs the back of his neck. "You're drunk."

I smile. "Let's dance."

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea," he seems to mutter. He pulls out his phone and starts texting.

I leave the bar and jump into the crowd. Sweat and beer and cigars fill my senses. There are so many mirrors and everyone is double.

An arm snakes around my waist, and I turn, but it's only Thorne. He's not so double. "Come on, Cinder, we're leaving."

I throw my arms around him and sway. "I finally have that giddy feeling. Let's dance."

He grabs my hands and takes them off his shoulders. His eyes dart around, then focus somewhere over my head. He's not smiling.

"Killjoy," I say, sticking my tongue out at him. "I'll find someone else."

Thorne curses. "Cress is going to kill me."


	5. a campfire, lightning bugs, a note

That night, I dream about how Kai proposed on one of our camping trips.

It's the seventh time we've gone to the Catskills since we started dating, and it's one of my favorite weekend getaways. The static in our life settles down in the woods. No busy schedules, no prying eyes, no distractions.

Just the two of us.

We get our favorite campsite, marked #12, which is right at the edge of the lake with the fire pit set at a slant. Our tent is smaller than most, built for two but so cozy that it makes it almost impossible not to snuggle.

I was never one for cuddling until I met Kai.

Big spoon, little spoon.

We hike, we swim, we make love.

When I walk back from the showers on our second night, I nearly miss our campsite. Though the campfire is still blazing behind our tent as it was when I left, there are candles everywhere. Their tiny flames stay constant among the lightning bugs that light up and fade out all around.

Kai is nowhere to be seen.

There's a note taped to our tent: _Find me at our spot._

I hang up my wet towel and click on my flashlight. The trail to our spot starts at the lake. I trod down on the dirt, careful not to trip on roots and rocks. When I reach the water, I turn right and push aside the bushes. We discovered the little trail along the water by accident one day, when we were picking berries one day and kept walking through the small thicket.

It takes five minutes to get there. Our spot is an opening, a tiny clearing. There's a boulder right where the trees close and open, and Kai and I have returned there often to eat, think, and kiss. Though we know it's not true, we like to imagine that no one else has ever discovered this spot, that only we exist when we're inside it.

There are lights strung up on the trees, like Christmas has come in early September. It's breathtaking, and my heart stirs in my chest.

I have to pause at the sight of Kai. He sits casually on the boulder, one leg dangling and the other curled up underneath him. Gone are his sweats and hoodie; Kai is wearing a dress shirt and _tie_.

When he glances up at me, that million-dollar smile takes over his face. "Cinder," he says. Only he can make my name roll off his tongue in sweet tones like that, like everything about it is covered in his favorite candy.

"What's all this?" I say, clicking off my flashlight.

He holds out his hands to me, inviting me to join him on the boulder. "You deserve some romance," he responds. His chocolate eyes twinkle, though, and I know this is about something more. Somewhere deep inside me, there's a small, knowing thrill. _Maybe this is it._

I climb up and we sit in silence for a few minutes, staring up at his lights. His arm is tight around me, and I sigh into his shoulder. Through the cover of the trees, we can just barely make out a sliver of the moon.

Kai shifts, his arm leaving me. I look down, and Kai is hopping off the boulder.

It all happens at once. The deep inhale, the reach into his pocket, the bending of his knee.

We toast our new relationship status with s'mores when we finally make it back to the campfire, over an hour later. Behind us, our shadows from the flame melt into one. This is how we will be forever: one. United, a sole entity.

I wake with the ghost of a smile on my lips, then bury my face in my pillow when the throbbing headache drowns me in reality.

Kai doesn't want forever.

Kai wants a break.


	6. a box of green hair dye, a motivational speech, snowflakes in eyelashes

 

"I hate to say it, but I agree with Kai," says Iko as she emerges from her walk-in closet.

I want to glare at her for taking his side over mine, but the box of green hair dye in her hand catches me off-guard. Iko has been dyeing her hair since I first met her, but green has never made an appearance in the last thirteen years.

Red? Yes. Blue? Often.

"Think about it," she says, "Levana is a felon. Of course Kai is going to be freaked out that you gave her money again. And this time you did it behind his back."

I manage to glare this time, but Iko turns her back to me and reaches for her gloves. I sit down on the edge of the bathtub warily, knowing that she isn't going to let this go. It serves me right; I'm the one who came over after work. This is what I get for avoiding Kai yet another day.

"I didn't go behind his back," I say. "I simply chose not to tell him before I did it."

Iko puts a gloved hand on her hip. "And look where that got you."

"Maybe before you jump down my throat, you should try to look at it from my perspective. Levana is part of my family, even if she is more horrible than even Adri. I can't leave her to destitution."

"She's manipulating the fact that you're actually a decent person."

I sigh. "I know."

"And Kai knows that. He wants what's best for you, Cinder."

I pull on my ponytail and avoid answering. I don't know if Kai wants what's best for me anymore, because I don't think Kai knows _me_ anymore. If he thinks I would abandon my family, then he married a completely different Cinder.

It really is that way now, isn't it?

Different Cinder.

Different Kai.

"It's not just about the money, Iko," I finally say. "You know Kai and I fight over the stupidest things now. It's like we're both on the defensive all the time."

Iko drapes a towel around her shoulders. The bright light shining on her face reflects in the mirror and makes it look like she has snowflakes in her dark, thick eyelashes. They flutter in concentration as she starts applying the tube of dye to her hair.

"If you leave Kai, can I have him?" she asks.

I throw my hands up in the air in annoyance, making Iko jump and nearly squirt dye on the mirror.

"Hey!" she says. "Watch it! I was just kidding. But Kai _is_ practically perfect. If you can't get along with him, who would you get along with?"

"I hope that wasn't your idea of a motivational speech," I say.

Before she can respond, I stalk out of the bathroom. Iko is wrong. Kai isn't perfect at all. His public persona makes him seem that way, but I've seen the ugly, broken bits of Kai as much as he's seen mine.

When we took our vows, we promised to love through the good and the bad. But what if the bad is too strong? What if it is the current of a wild river and our love has been dragged down by it, no matter how much we struggled not to drown?

As I head for Iko's kitchen, I realize that the Kai that Iko is thinking of is the same one that I long for—the old Kai. The Kai that I married. The Kai who _was_ practically perfect.

But it seems that guy is gone, and the Cinder he married is clearly gone too.

We are the sun and moon: we used to complement each other, but now we just steal each other's light.


	7. a clock, a promise, an airport

It's the middle of the afternoon when Kai gets the call. He drops to his knees and for the first time ever, I see him sob. My heart crumples to ashes at the sight of him, and it takes more than a few minutes to understand what has happened. When he finally chokes out the words, the ashes blow away and my insides are left hollow.

I join him on the ground and he buries himself in my chest and I hold him hold him hold him. I cry too, because Kai's father is the closest thing I've ever had to one.

It's a sunny day in Spring with the promise of new life popping up all around us. I feel betrayed by the sun. Days like this should be dark and tempestuous, with bitter winds that scream _this is not fair! He's too young! We didn't get enough time!_

The clock reads two a.m. when Kai wakes me urgently, desperate to forget everything that steals his sleep. Kai hides his sadness away in needy kisses and touches. We make love and it's slow and long and tainted by grief. I take his demons and he takes mine.

When Kai finally succumbs to sleep it's nearly dawn. I keep him pressed against me as he drifts away and stroke the sweaty bangs on his forehead. I've offered him a million kisses in these early hours and would offer him a million more.

We're silent on the way to the airport. I regret that I can't go to China with him on a moment's notice. I should be at the funeral. Kai has to take care of his mother, but who will take care of Kai?

Neither of us can predict that more bad news is on the horizon. When his mother passes ten months from now, there's more anger than sadness. Something inside Kai hardens indefinitely, and he loses a part of himself along with his parents.

I feel helpless; this is something that I can never relate to. I don't remember my birth parents, and only an uncaring aunt and a hateful adoptive mother remain as a reminder of what I never had.

I travel with Kai this time, and we both hold one urn each on the flight back home. He tells me that he wouldn't have made it through this bleak year without me. I squeeze his hand. Tell him that he is _my_ family. Promise him that together we can get through anything. No matter what life throws at us, we'll face it together.

Perhaps this is why everything has imploded in on us now. Perhaps we forgot what it means to be together.


	8. intertwined hands, an inside joke, a poem

 

My necklace is missing.

Kai is missing too, but it's the necklace I panic about when I step out of the shower and see the empty spot on the corner of the vanity. I just finished letting all the memories of the past three days fall away with the warm water. Does that include the last twenty minutes?

I clutch mindlessly at my bare neck where it normally hangs. If it's not on the vanity after showering, then I wasn't wearing it.

I drop to my knees and crawl around the bathroom floor anyway. It's my birth mother's necklace, the one she left in my blanket at the orphanage. The one I used to figure out her identity—my identity.

It only takes a few dust bunnies and a spider to convince me that cleaning is more important than finding a necklace I wasn't wearing and therefore didn't lose. The last time I picked up a vacuum cleaner was more than two weeks ago, and Kai has done nothing in my absence.

At least, not here.

I push the thought away with a long exhale and sit back onto my heels. Cleaning will distract me from being alone in this house that used to be a home. Now that I'm back. Now that Kai isn't.

Cleaning is perfect.

I find the necklace in my pocket the second I stop looking for it and breathe a sigh of relief. I sweep my hair back into a ponytail, don my headphones, and drown out the dull roar of the vacuum and my mind. Though the music eventually makes me move my shoulders, I'm so uninspired that I head downstairs—all the way to the basement, to the loneliest place of all.

So many boxes are still unpacked from when we moved here, not more than two years ago. It wasn't that we meant to leave them all like this. Time just moved on and autumn became spring became summer. Whenever we made our way down here at the change of a season, to exchange a shovel for a rake, we always said we'd get to it soon.

Soon became later became never.

Our _I love you's_ followed.

Now I wonder if it's best that the boxes are still sealed with packer's tape. It'll make moving them out quicker if it comes to that. My eyes prick, but I tell myself it's just the love song that's blasting through my headphones. What am I doing down here?

I take a step up the stairs and hesitate,

turn around,

step down.

Another song and I'm sitting on the floor, box torn open on my lap, crying over picture frames with cob-webbed corners. We are so young, so naïve, so hopelessly in l-o-v-e. My eyes are brighter when my head is on his shoulder. His smile stretches impossibly when our hands are intertwined. I look beautiful in a white, lace-trimmed dress.

I cut my finger on the metal clasp behind the frame to get the picture out. Swearing, I reach into the box for some of the paper I used to cushion the frames. I hedge my bets that I won't get a staph infection and wipe away the blood. My eye catches on the crinkly, yellowed paper, now smeared with a red stain. Familiar handwriting slips underneath the folds.

I snatch up the paper, the precious picture forgotten. It's probably a discarded grocery list, but Kai's scrawl makes fresh tears hit my cheeks.

My heart seizes as I uncurl the paper. It's not a grocery list at all, but words and phrases strung together and then abandoned, crossed out with darker ink. It's a poem, or Kai's attempt at one. The lyrics in my ears sing of heartache and hope, and I can't help but feel it's dedicated to me.

The poem is not very good, but that makes it even better. My lips twitch into a smile as I sniff, like he just shared a joke with me, one that only I am meant to understand. I can't believe he threw this out, but it's just like him.

I imagine Kai sitting at his desk, hunched over, scribbling furiously. He shoves a frustrated hand through his bangs because he can't get it perfect, can't get it right. He rolls up paper after paper into balls and chucks them into the wastebasket.

I read it over and over and over. Hold it close to my heart. Close my eyes.

When the song ends and a rock song begins, I turn it off. It feels wrong right now, like it's tainted the purity within the poem, within Kai, within this moment that's drained all the feelings out of me.

I shakily reach for the phone in my pocket. I place it on the ground in front of me, next to the photograph, next to the blood-stained poem. Before I can change my mind, I dial his number.

The empty ringing fills me with dread, and I hang up before it can go to voicemail. There's nothing more pathetic than crying into voicemail when the one receiving it might delete it the second he hears your voice. When I think it, the tears disappear and I want that rock music back to carry the anger.

_He didn't pick up. He didn't care._

I hug my knees to my chest. Rock. Think about ripping up the picture.

I'm still deciding when the phone vibrates on the ground. My heart beats out of my chest when Kai's face lights up my screen, moves in time with the phone. I wanted him to call but I didn't want him to call but I wanted him call.

I lift the phone to my ear.

The wait is agony, the silence a testament to all we've lost.

_"Cinder?"_

His voice is tremendous amidst this room of forgotten memories.

 _"_ Kai?"

Another pause.

_"Where are you?"_


	9. baking on a rainy day, high fives, a first kiss

"Home," I say.

My voice sounds cracked but cool, and far harsher than I intend. I'm so harsh lately. I'm still mad, I remind myself, and our fights warrant this type of wall, this type of response.

There's silence again.

"Oh."

"You're not home." Now my voice clips up into an accusation. _Are you with someone else_ , is what I don't say, don't dare say, but he knows that's the point.

I can almost feel his loud sigh in my bones when it comes through the line. He's running a hand through his messy hair, I know it.

"I didn't want to be there without you."

I wait.

"It didn't feel right."

A small crack in my restraint slips through at his words, because they are so _Kai_ and so exactly what I need to hear right now. He wasn't fooling around with someone else. He wasn't home because I wasn't home.

I'm the one who left first, I remind myself. I'm the one who didn't stay to repair. If only I could fix relationships the way I fix cars.

I finally say, "Where are you, then?"

"The Kesleys'." I high-five myself mentally, thanking my lucky stars that I didn't go there, then, after I almost left Cress and Thorne's house. When I don't say anything, Kai adds, "You know Scarlet's the best at baking." He laughs, but it's forced. "Nothing like cookies to cheer you up on a rainy day."

"Right."

"Can I come home, Cinder? I miss you."

The photo on the ground of the two of us at our wedding threatens to bring a fresh tear to my eye.

"I—I don't know," I say. "Maybe it's better if we have more space. That's what you wanted, isn't it? Space."

A blurry vision of Thorne trying to break this news to me at a shady bar bubbles to the surface. The truth is that I do want Kai home more than I will ever admit. But I want this version of him, the version where he misses me and tries to lighten the conversation by talking about cookies.

Not the one where we have to dig through years of emotional baggage to try to unearth problems that keep us from being us.

What if 'us' is the problem?

There's ice between us now. Kai's standing on top of the lake looking down, meanwhile I'm in the water struggling to see a crack in the thick sheet above me, wondering if he would pull me up if I found one. This hypothermia could be the death of me. Perhaps it already was the death of me, and it's too late for a blanket, too late for warmth.

Maybe trying won't change anything.

"I'm sorry," says Kai. I can hear the break in his voice and it hits me so hard that maybe Kai is the one who needs warmth. It feels like a trick, one that I always fall for, one that lately ends with me sleeping at Cress and Thorne's. "I was mad, Cinder. You hurt me, so…so I wanted to hurt you too. I don't want space. I want _you_."

"Well. We can't always have what we want, can we?"

I hear Kai sniff, and I wonder if he's crying, or trying not to, the way that I'm trying not to. He utters four words, spoken in a voice so low and hollow that I wonder if I imagined them. "But you're my wife."

We're so happy in this photo. We're so happy in this photo. We're so happy in this photo.

"Cinder? Please don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything." And maybe that's what makes me even more horrible of a person.

"What about—what about meeting halfway? I won't come home, but you'll at least see me."

"I'm not coming over there." I can't be around any more happy couples right now.

He inhales sharply, like my answer has somehow given him renewed energy. "Not here, no. Let's—how about the pier?"

"The pier?"

I know exactly which pier he's talking about, but the suggestion catches me off guard. It's where we had our first kiss, and it's been almost that long since we've been back there.

"Off the boardwalk, right by Luna's Shells? You know, where we—"

"I know."

"Will you meet me there?"

I chew on the inside of my cheek. It's raining, and I look like a mess, and what if this is the wrong move, and—

"Okay," I whisper.


	10. a phone call, a ferris wheel, a broken heart

The boardwalk is crowded tonight, maybe because it's finally not raining or maybe because there's never anything to do in this damn city. I used to come here as a teen too, just to waste time without having to spend any money.

No shops are open during off-season, but hearts are still for sale. It was a bad idea to come here. There seems to be a couple on every bench I pass. Some of them are huddled together in their fall jackets, blending together as one as they kiss. Others sit quietly and talk, but I can tell they like each other just by their looks. They are old and young, none of them deterred by the way the crisp autumn breeze nips at our cheeks, amplified by the lakefront chill.

I'm bundled up in a scarf and hat, as I've never enjoyed the coming of winter and I have no partner to keep me warm. I'm on high alert, thinking that Kai could show up at any time. I want to get to Luna's Shells first so he doesn't blindside me.

Kai's presence always blindsides me. His musty smell, his dark eyes, his carefree smile, his body meant just for me.

I stuff my hands in my pockets and pass the looming Ferris wheel off to the right, the one that has been broken as long as I have lived here. Kai and I climbed it once—well, at least up four broken cars until he chickened out. Remembering how he dangled there, eyes frantic and terrified, is one of my favorite memories. He only had about five feet to fall.

I shake my head even as a smile forms on my face.

It's wiped away as soon as I see the pier appear ahead of me. The fluorescent sign that reads _Luna's Shells_ is apparent even from this distance.

So is the shadow of a man standing next to it.

I nearly turn around. My heart is racing so much I think I might throw up.

But I've been walking away all week and I promised him I would show up.

My phone starts to ring. I pull it out of my pocket nervously, thinking it's Kai. Now that we've broken our phone silence, there's no reason it wouldn't be him. I stop and move under an unlit shop in case he can see me from the pier too. But when I prime myself to answer calmly, I see that it's actually Levana.

I almost throw my phone into the lake. Maybe Levana isn't the root of our problems, but she's certainly caused a lot of them lately. I've been thinking a lot about what Iko said to me and I know that there is truth to her words. But Kai doesn't understand what it's like to have only one person who is connected to your past, even if that person is horrible beyond words.

I had to help her. It's who I am.

But now it almost feels like an exchange. I had to throw away my marriage to stand up for something I believe in.

I don't even know what I believe in anymore.

I reject the call and keep walking, more determinedly now. Kai is the one who wanted to meet me. He can't be so eager to come home if he just wants to leave me, right?

And then, all too soon, I am at the pier.

Kai steps away from the wall of the shop on which he is leaning. My heart lurches into my chest as he approaches me, taking the last few steps that separate us. For a moment, I imagine that he will kiss me, like he always does when he sees me, but Kai is not smiling.

"You came."

"You sound surprised."

He runs his hand through his hair. "Should I be?"

"I didn't come here to fight," I say, kicking at some pebbles on the old wood.

"Me neither."

I let out a breath. "Then what do you want, Kai?"

Kai shakes his head continuously, like he's listening to a speech on television that he doesn't agree with. My defenses go up immediately, and just like always, I prepare myself for the fight that we both claim we don't want. Prepare myself to leave.

"Stars, Cinder, I want _you_."

"You—"

"Yes. _You_."

I shake my head and take a step back as he reaches for me, but he takes my hand anyway, coming right in my face and stopping mere inches from me. I'm trembling and shaking my head more and trying not to think about how beautiful he is. "No. We're—we're broken, Kai. We have been for a long time."

"I know."

I force myself to look at him. "Then how can you want this? How can you want… _me_? Us? Haven't you had enough?"

He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes. "You're my wife," he says, like he did on the phone, only now it's with conviction. "You're my _wife_. That's why I want you. I've always wanted you and I always will."

"Romantic words won't fix anything. We always revert to the same habits. We're both too stubborn."

Kai nods. "You're right. We are both too stubborn. And we could both have a little more faith in each other, don't you think?"

I shake my head again, a tear falling down my cheek. "You make it sound easy. But every time something comes up that isn't easy, we fall apart. I can't fall apart anymore, Kai."

With his other hand, he wipes away my tear, but the gesture makes me cry even more. It doesn't take long before his eyes are wet too.

"I'm so sorry, Cinder. I'm sorry I can't be the husband that you need."

"You're the perfect husband. That's the problem. You're perfect. We're just not perfect together. Not anymore."

Kai takes both my hands now and he's so close to me I can't breathe. This is the end. He's going to kiss me and then we're both going to walk away and begin new lives without each other. I'm shaking so badly.

"We'll figure it out," he says, trying to wipe his own cheeks with his shoulder. "We can go to therapy, or do one of those couple retreats, or take a vacation together and forget life."

"With what money? I spent what we had on Levana. And I know you're going to yell at me about that again because I know now that I should have talked to you about it first, but I was already mad at you and I can't take it back."

"I'm not going to yell at you. If you had talked to me about it, I would've told you to give her that money. I know you can't live with yourself if she's on the streets. But maybe we could have come up with a payment plan or something that doesn't put us in financial hardship."

"It's only a hardship for this month. I worked out the budget. We can make it up next month when we get our paychecks. Levana doesn't have a job and she has no way of making it up."

Kai sighs. "Cinder, what bothers me is that you chose her over us. Not financially, that's not what I mean. I mean you did this on your own, without me."

"I know! But it's done. I can't take it back!"

"We can't take anything we've done back," he says, no longer trying to control his tears. It's breaking my heart just to look at him. "We can only go forward. I want to go forward with you, even if we have no idea what that looks like." He lets go of my hands and grabs my face. "I love you, Cinder. I will always love you."

"I love you too," I sob. "But how are we going to fix this?"

Kai presses his lips against me and kisses me fiercely, like it's the first time, like it's the last time, like it's the only kiss we'll ever have. With all the tears from both of us it's desperate and wet and messy. I clutch at his jacket and inhale him, putting all of my fears and doubts into the kiss. Into him.

We break apart and he smiles for the first time since I've seen him, his wet cheeks crinkling up to his eyes.

"You can't just kiss me every time something is wrong," I say, then kiss him again.

"No," he says, "but it certainly helps put things in perspective." He pushes some stray bangs off my face, but does not let go of me. "If we both love each other, we can figure this out. It might hurt some more before it starts to feel better, but I want to try."

I find myself nodding, first slowly, then furiously. If Kai wants to try, then I want to try.

His whole body sags with relief, and then he has collapsed into my arms and we are both holding on so tight I don't know how we ever let go of each other in the first place. He kisses my cheeks, my forehead, my neck, my hair. He lifts me up and twirls me and kisses me again and again and again.

"I thought I lost you," he whispers. "I thought I lost you."

As we circle back from the pier, walking along the boardwalk hand-in-hand, I realize that all the other couples might not be as perfectly in love as I imagine them to be. Anyone who sees Kai and me right now will think that we are just as in love as ever. They can't see that there is still hurt between us, so much hurt that neither of us knows yet how to address. All I know is that we chose each other, and we chose each other again tonight, and I hope we'll choose each other again next time.

Maybe there is a way, if we choose each other.

Maybe we can fix our broken hearts.

Piece by piece.

Day by day.


End file.
